to put them in water.”
“The vase I’d brought was leaking, so I had to track down a new one.”
“That’s right. While you were gone, your dad had one of his lucid moments and grasped Adam’s hand. He really recognized him for the first time in a long time. Dad was so happy about that. He told Adam how he’d always loved him like a son. I think we were all teary at that point. Anyway, that’s when Adam made that promise.”
The old ache of losing her father thudded dully in Lauren’s chest. “What promise?”
“He promised to look after you and care for you. He promised you’d never want for anything.”
Tenderness welled up inside her. Adam had been all of sixteen at the time. She swallowed past a lump in her throat.
“That’s incredibly sweet,” she said. “I wish I’d known that, but he has looked after me. We’ve always looked after each other. That’s what friends do.”
“I don’t know. Something about the way he said it…I took it to mean he intended for your relationship to one day grow into something more. Your father thought so, too. One of the last things he said was that he was sorry he’d miss seeing Adam become an official member of the family. You know, Rusty has always looked up to him, too. I think we’ve all felt that way.”
“Oh, Mom…I know how much you all love Adam. I can’t imagine how my life would have been without him. I just think that maybe you were jumping to conclusions about this.”
“But you think it may be possible?” Hope colored her mother’s voice.
It also stirred in Lauren’s heart. Could it be she wanted Adam to want her that way? “I’m not sure. Maybe…”
“Has he said anything that might insinuate he’s interested? Maybe he isn’t sure how to go about it with you.”
“It…it’s possible he’s been trying to tell me, but I’ve been afraid to listen.”
Lauren smoothed her hand across the cookbook. Her throat tightened. Surely, he didn’t mean for her to fill the role of wife and mother? If only he’d accept there was more than one kind of wife.
“Well, listen up, darling girl! You’ve got to give him a chance. I’ve always hoped the two of you would get together. I just never said anything because I wasn’t sure how you’d take it.”
“I’ll tell you what. I’ll start paying closer attention. If it looks like Adam’s interested, I’ll keep myself open to the possibility.”
“You do that, dear. I know you won’t be sorry.”
Lauren’s stomach gave a loud rumble. “I’ll talk to you soon, Mom.”
“Keep me posted, and tell Adam he should give an old woman a call every now and then.”
After hanging up, Lauren headed toward the kitchen, cookbook in hand. Was it possible? Could Adam be interested in taking their friendship to the next level? She stood for a long moment, staring at the heart-shaped pastries on the cover before opening the cookbook.
The book presented two kinds of recipes. The first were for the actual food, which contained an abundance of sauces and creams. The other recipes, which incorporated the first, displayed titles like “Sunday Morning Bubble Bath,” or “Moonlit Picnic for Two,” included explicit instructions on how best to serve each meal. Body parts tended to replace dishes, and fingers silverware.
Colored photographs showing couples “dishing up” the meals accompanied a number of the entries. Warmth filled her. Had Adam sent the book? Was this the level he wanted to take her to? She closed her eyes and imagined the two of them replacing one of the pictured couples.
With a lazy motion, Adam drizzled a honey glaze over her breasts, while she offered him a morsel of chicken. He accepted the bite from her fingertips, then bent to lick the glaze from her nipples.
Her body tensed, as sensual heat filled her. Her nipples tightened and her sex pulsed. If they became lovers, would they remain friends? Could she make love with him, risk losing his friendship forever?
A kaleidoscope of memories danced over her: a twelve-year-old Adam helping her set up her very first business, a dog-walking service; Adam standing and cheering wildly when she placed fifth in a local teen pageant; and finally, Adam holding her and keeping the world at bay after her father had died and she thought she’d break into a million pieces. He’d kept her together through it all.
Her heart swelled as realization dawned. All she had to do was convince him that he could be every bit as happy without overcomplicating his life. She could lose him to another woman, or risk losing his friendship, but if she gathered her courage she stood to gain so much more.
She was ready for the next step. She stood motionless as the possibility shimmered before her. Then she straightened, drawing her shoulders back and lifting her chin.
“There’s just one thing to do, then.”
She hugged the book to her front. The future stretched ahead of her, her path crystal clear. Since Adam seemed bent on remaining anonymous, she’d have to let him know of her interest.
She’d seduce her best friend.
ADAM’S STOMACH RUMBLED the following morning as he peered hopefully into his refrigerator. He peeled back the cover of a plastic container. “Hmm, what have we here?”
A fine covering of green coated the remains of some forgotten meal. Wrinkling his nose, he dumped the entire container into the trash.
Too bad he hadn’t talked Lauren into dinner last night. He’d settled for Chinese takeout, which had done the trick, but hadn’t stuck to his ribs the way one of her hearty meals would have. His stomach continued its protest as he scavenged his pantry to no avail.
He shoved an old can of anchovies back onto a shelf and straightened. There was only one thing to do. He’d go out for breakfast, and he’d drag Lauren along with him. Frustrating woman had probably skipped dinner last night.
Shaking his head, he grabbed his car keys. She worked way too hard. If he didn’t intervene, she’d probably waste away to nothing.
A scant fifteen minutes later, he pulled into her driveway. The maple tree in front scattered its golden leaves as he strode up her walk. He inhaled the early-morning air, crisp with the promise of fall. Bypassing the front door, he headed through a little gate to the backyard. The fountain he’d installed bubbled quietly at the center of a small flower garden. The curtains in Lauren’s bedroom window remained drawn.
“Stayed up late working, sleepyhead?” he murmured to himself as he searched the ground for a couple of pebbles.
With a practiced aim, he tossed the pebbles at her upstairs window. After the fifth throw, the curtains moved, then the window slid upward and she peered blearily down at him. “I’m sleeping.”
The sun caught her tousled hair, turning it a dazzling gold. She looked warm and rumpled and utterly attractive. A soft breeze rustled the thin fabric of her oversize T-shirt, skimming it across the swells of her breasts. He stood rooted in place, those generous curves holding him entranced, until he tore his gaze away.
“You
